My Angel
by Jenebra
Summary: I didn't know what his name was. If anyone had bothered to ask, I would have called him Angel, for even though we'd never spoken, he'd still managed to save my life. And now I had to kill him... This is my first fanfic, so PLEASE give it a chance and be kind. I promise it will get better. I've just gotta get into it a little bit. Will become very OOC.
1. Peeta Mellark

I was twelve when we met.

He was standing outside of the old bakery, apron in hand, flour smudged across his left cheek. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, he smiled. The beautiful blonde haired, blue eyed boy smiled at me. It was as though heaven itself had opened its doors and sent an angel down to give me one last glimpse of true beauty before the hunger overtook me. As I held his gaze, his smile grew wider, his gaze always holding my own.

That's when I fell over.

Immediately, his smile disappeared. His eyes drifted to the thread-bare baby clothes that had fallen out of my hands. My shirt was already too small and had ridden up on my body so that he could see the outline of my ribs protruding from my back. My breath was shaky and I inhaled bits of the muddy water that cluttered the street.

_This is it,_ I thought. _This is where I'm going to die._ I looked up once more at the angel, hoping that he would hold some answer as to what would happen after my final breath, but he was gone. The bakery door swung on its hinges, hitting the frame with a loud _Thunk!_

Tears began to roll down my cheeks. My angel was gone. My end had come, and more importantly, so had my sister's. I had been out bargaining all day, yet I had nothing to bring home to her. Tonight would no doubt be the end for both of us.

In the back of my mind, I heard shouting, screaming, pounding noises coming from inside the bakery. It was a woman. The witch that the kind old baker called a wife. But there was no response to her screams.

After a few minutes they died down and the door creaked open once more. I looked up, and there was my angel. He wasn't smiling this time though, and his face was red and beginning to swell. In his hands were two loaves of bread. He said something, but the rain was so loud I couldn't make it out. Then he threw the bread in my direction, turned on his heel, and walked back into the shop.

I didn't think, I just did. I dragged myself off the ground and snatched up the bread, cradling it in my arms as though it were a child. With one last look at the bakery, I silently thanked my angel before running back to my home in the Seam. My angel had saved me. I would live another day.

* * *

There he was again, standing out in the crowd of boys in front of the stage. I did my best to look stoic – I would not give them the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I was Katniss Everdeen, and if I was going down, I would go down fighting.

Effie Trinket's shrill voice rang through the microphone, "and now for the gentlemen!"

_Not Gale, not my angel, not Gale, not my angel…_

"Patric Carta."

The words were barely out of Effie's mouth before the sing song voice of my angel rang out, "I volunteer!"

_No! No no no no no no no…_

"Oh, goodie, _two_ volunteers in one year! How exciting!"

_I swear Effie, sometimes I just want to punch you…_

"And what's your name, young man?" She held the microphone to the angel's lips.

My angel looked into my eyes. "Peeta Mellark."

_Peeta Mellark._ I played the name on repeat in my head. My angel was named Peeta Mellark. My angel, who I'd have to kill in a fight to the death.

Leave it to Effie to ruin a beautiful moment. "District 12, I present to you your tributes for the 74th annual Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark!"

No one applauded. Instead, they all pressed their three middle fingers to their lips and held them up in salute. I fought back tears. In spite of all I'd gone through in this pathetic little district, the people truly were my home.

The moment-ruiner interrupted once again. "Peeta, Katniss, you may shake hands now."

I looked into the eyes of my angel, my savior, my fellow tribute. _Oh, why did you have to volunteer?_ I thought. My death had been sealed the moment he'd spoken up. I could not kill him.

My angel began to approach me, one hand reaching for mine. On shaky legs, I took a step towards him.

"Katniss," he whispered, just loud enough for me to hear.

I couldn't take it any longer. Now, as I prepared to face my death, I would do what I'd never had the privilege of doing before. I would live.

Ignoring his outstretched hand, I flung my arms around his neck and smashed my mouth to his. I've never understood this gesture (kissing, I think it's called), but I've heard it is a sign of kindness and affection, so it seemed like a good way to say "thank you". Thank you for not leaving me to go through this alone, thank you for being who you are, thank you for the bread.

I think my angel understood what I was saying. His arms wrapped themselves around my waist and pulled me closer to him. He closed his eyes. He smiled against my lips.

I don't know how long we stood there like that, but eventually Haymitch's obnoxious laughter cut in, and my angel let me go.

"Never thought I'd be kissing Katniss Everdeen on live television," my angel whispered to me.

Effie must have heard him, because she cut in with a loud, "how sweet! It's about time we had a good love story in these games!"

Love story? What was she talking about?

"That about wraps things up. Thank you, district 12, and happy Hunger Games!"


	2. Discoveries

***Thank you to everyone who's reviewed, favorited, followed, messaged, and read. I really appreciate the support I've gotten so far. You guys are great! Less than Three 3***

"So how do you know Patric?"

I was sitting across from my angel on the train. We boarded about 5 minutes ago and hadn't spoken since we left the stage. He was looking at me. Staring, actually, with this big, beautiful, dopy smile on his face. The grin faded when I asked that question though, and confusion took over his lovely features.

"Patric?"

I nodded, "Yes, Patric. The boy you volunteered for."

My angel still looked confused. "Oh…I don't really."

Now _I_ was the confused one. "Then why did you volunteer for him?"

My angel's eyes widened. "You think I volunteered to save Patric?"

I nodded.

He shook his head. "You don't know?"

"Know what?" Now I was really confused. Had I missed something?

"Katniss," my name sounds so beautiful when it comes from his lips… "I volunteered to save you. I'm here to make sure you get home safely."

My jaw dropped. _I volunteered to save you._ The words swam through my head as I desperately tried to make sense of them. _Why would he want to save me?_

"Why would you want to save me?" I asked.

If possible, he looked more confused than he already was. "You really have no idea, do you." It wasn't a question.

"Peeta," I resisted the urge to call him Angel, "What are you talking about?"

A small smile returned to his features. "You have no idea, the effect you can have."

"Effect on what?" Why was none of this making any sense?

"Effect on me." He stared into my eyes. "I thought…on the platform…the kiss…I…I thought you knew…"

"Knew _what_?" My voice had an unwanted edge to it. I didn't mean to be harsh with him, but this was getting frustrating.

"Knew…how I feel…about you." I was still confused. "Katniss," he moved his body so that he was sitting next to me and took my small hands in his large, warm ones. "Katniss, I love you. I've loved you since we were five years old. I thought…when you kissed me…I thought you knew."

My head was swimming. _He loves me? He barely knows me!_ But suddenly things were making sense. This was why he'd volunteered, this was why his father had brought me the cookies, this was why he'd thrown me the bread. My angel loved me. My heart soared.

"Katniss, if you didn't know, what was that kiss for?"

I looked at him. "I wanted to say thank you. For the bread."

My angel laughed. "You mean when we were kids? Oh, that was nothing. You were hungry and I had food. The pieces just fit together." He paused, and when he began again, his tone was slightly accusatory. "Did you really think a kiss in front of all of Panem was the best way to say thank you?"

I shrugged. "Well, it's not as though we'll be getting much alone time together in the next few weeks."

"Yes, but a kiss?"

I frowned. "Did you not like it?"

He laughed, the accusatory tone gone. "Of course I liked it. I loved it. But people don't usually say thank you to someone by kissing them."

I looked down. "Oh."

His finger came under my chin and pushed my head back up until our eyes met. "I'm not mad," he whispered. "Actually, I'm a bit thrilled. I always dreamed of kissing you. I've literally dreamed about it. I just always hoped it would happen when we weren't headed to our deaths and that it would mean you cared for me as I do for you."

Sorrow began to creep into his eyes. I had to stop that. "But I do."

As the words tumbled out of my mouth, I realized just how true they were. Ever since that day with the bread, I've loved the angel now sitting in front of me. I always knew that somehow, he was watching me, making sure that I was safe and healthy. I'd kept track of him at school, his academics and his wrestling matches. And on more than one occasion, it had been _me_ who pulled Prim to the bakery window to look at the cakes, in hope that I might catch a glimpse of my beautiful angel. The boy who'd saved us.

My angel's eyes widened. "Do you mean that, Katniss?"

I nodded. "Yes, Peeta. I…I think I love you."

I couldn't read the emotion that swept over his face. I didn't have much time to. Within seconds, my angel had pulled me into his strong arms and attached his mouth to mine. I kissed him back fervently, thrilled by my newfound realization. I was in love with my angel. And more importantly, he loved me back. My heart was pounding in my chest faster than I would've thought possible.

"I love you, Peeta," I whispered against his lips.

He smiled. "I love you, Katniss." Kiss. "I'm in love with you." Kiss. "I'm in love with Katniss Everdeen." Kiss. Then he pulled away and shouted at the top of his lungs, "I'M IN LOVE WITH KATNISS EVERDEEN!"

Haymitch stuck his head out of the dining cart. "Could you say that a little louder, loverboy? I don't think the folks in District 1 quite got that."

My angel stuck his tongue out at the drunk and pulled me tighter into his chest. "You're just jealous Haymitch. Jealous that you couldn't get a girl as amazing as her."

Haymitch scoffed. "Yeah, that's just what I need, a headstrong teenage girl getting tangled up in my business."

My angel shook his head and looked back at me, his blue eyes shining.

"I love you," he whispers.

"I love you too, Peeta."

And that's when I knew, no matter what happened to me, I would get him out of the arena. I would get him home. And I would die happy, because I could spend every moment of the rest of my life with him, and that was all I needed.


	3. Don't Die for Me

***So, I don't know who "Guest reviewer" is, and I have no way of contacting you, but whoever you are, your review just about made my day. Thank you so much!***

"Dinner!" Effie's voice trilled through the train.

I forced myself to pull away from my angel's embrace and stood, still holding his hand. He frowned at my pulling away, but rose and followed me into the dining cart. Haymitch was already at the table, slumped over a glass of sickly-sweet smelling amber liquid, which Effie promptly took away from him.

"Women…" Haymitch mumbled.

My angel chuckled under his breath. He released my hand and reached for a large container of stew on the table and began serving some into his bowl. When he'd finished, he offered the bowl to me.

"So," my angel said to Haymitch after handing me the soup, "any advice?"

The drunk nodded very seriously. "Yeah," he said, "stay alive." Haymitch's laughter erupted through the room.

"Ha. That's funny," my angel spat, "only not to us." He looked as though he were going to reach across the table and rip the victor's throat out. I placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him.

"It's the hunger games," Haymitch justified, "it's about death." He paused for a moment. "Can you pass the jam, sweetheart."

That was the last straw for me. Not only was the man who had the potential to save my angel's life utterly intoxicated, but he was treating our impending deaths as a joke!

Angrily, I grabbed my butter knife and slammed it into the table, right between Haymitch's fingers.

He didn't even flinch. "What's this? Did I actually get a pair of fighters this year?"

My angel gave one solemn nod. "So please, lay off the drinking and help her."

"Her?" A smile crept on to Haymitch's face. "Don't you mean 'us' loverboy?"

I looked at my angel. _Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it…_

"No," my angel replied, "I meant _her_. I don't stand a chance of getting out of these games. Besides, I didn't volunteer to win. I volunteered to make sure she does."

"I'm not going to win," I mumbled.

"What was that sweetheart?" The drunkard's attention turned back to me.

"I said, I'm not going to win. And don't call me sweetheart."

"No," my angel shook his head, "no Katniss, we'll find a way, we'll beat the careers."

I didn't meet his eyes. "I know that. But I'm not going to win. You are."

Realization crossed his face. "No…" his head shook furiously. "No, Katniss, I won't let you die. You can't. Katniss promise me you won't. I couldn't live if you died. I wouldn't live. If you died, I would kill myself. I'd have nothing to live for. I'd…"

"Oh, cut it with the romantics, Loverboy," Haymitch wined. "Keep that up and you won't make it past the bloodbath."

My angel turned to Haymitch. "Then tell her I'm right. Tell her she isn't allowed to die. Tell her!"

"Shut up!" Haymitch slammed his fist down on the table. "Honestly, I couldn't care less which of you gets out of that damn arena, but if you two don't stop worrying about each other's safety and start thinking about your own, neither of you will! These games are not a team sport. There are no winners. Now shut up and finish your food. I'm gonna go wait for the reaping to start." With that, he rose from his chair and left the dining cart.

My angel said nothing and began quietly picking at his food. I waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.

"Peeta, say something. Please."

"What do you want me to say, Katniss?" My angel looked pained. "I just found out the girl I love is planning on killing herself for me and you expect me to just be ok with it!? No! I'm not going to just roll over and let you die for me. I don't want to fight with you, but if you insist on doing this, I'm gonna have to. I can't live without you."

"And you think I can? Peeta, I love you, but if you think you're just going to die and I'm going to be alright with it, you are sadly mistaken." I was yelling at this point. "God, why did you have to volunteer? If it had been Patric here with me, I would have done whatever I could to get back home to Prim. But no, you just had to be the hero again and put your life on the line for me! You can't do that Peeta. It's not ok. If you die…I…I…you can't…"

My angel noticed my shaking body and pulled me into his arms.

"Shh…Katniss, we can't both win. I knew that when I volunteered. And I couldn't let you face this alone. I want to be here. I want to die for you. Please, let me."

I nuzzled my face into his shirt.

"No, Peeta. I won't." I took a deep breath before pulling back and looking up into his sapphire eyes. "But I'm glad you're here. Not glad that you're going into the games, but glad that I get to spend this time with you. And I appreciate your volunteering to save me. But losing you is something I just can't do."

He looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn't. Instead he just kissed the top of my head and held me close. After a few minutes, he finally spoke.

"I love you, Katniss." Sigh. "Let's go watch the reapings."


End file.
